


Burn These Thoughts of Mine

by septemberprudence



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-03
Updated: 2016-01-03
Packaged: 2018-05-11 12:34:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5626879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/septemberprudence/pseuds/septemberprudence
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sebastian isn't waiting for anyone in particular to show up, not at all.</p>
<p>I wrote <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/4996825/chapters/12474716">a ficlet</a> about Mark and Seb at the FIA gala from Mark's POV and a commenter asked for Seb's POV.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Burn These Thoughts of Mine

Sebastian glanced around the room impatiently, frowning. 

It wasn't as if he was _waiting_ for anyone, he told himself. He was just here, hovering within sight of the entrance, drinking champagne, chatting to a few people, waiting for the ceremony to start. That was all. If there was a restlessness to his movements, a sense of anticipation knotting in his stomach, then that was just the occasion, the usual uneasiness that set in at the end of a season. Nothing else.

How long had it been since they'd seen each other? He couldn't remember, but even then it had only been a quick nod, a dismissive handshake as Mark had made his way through the paddock. _How'sitgoingyeahgoodnicetoseeyoushouldcatchupsometime_ Mark had said, almost in one breath, eyes blank. Sebastian was one more person to be dismissed as rapidly and politely as possible. Nothing more.

He glanced over towards the door for what felt like the hundredth time, and finally, at last, there he was. Tall as ever, not quite as thin as in the past, but utterly unmistakable. Sebastian knew he'd hate being dressed up in a 'monkey suit', as he'd call it, but he looked as at home in his tuxedo as he ever had in his race suit; perfectly, handsomely at ease.

Sebastian swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry as he gulped down another mouthful of champagne, too fast, the bubbles stinging his throat.

He could see Mark scanning the room, left to right, taking it all in, and Sebastian stood there watching, waiting for the moment when Mark's eyes would alight on him and stop. Sebastian was ready to stand a little straighter, stare back at him defiantly. 

But Mark's gaze simply slipped over him as if he was just another face in the crowd, without the faintest hint of acknowledgment or recognition. _Maybe he didn't see me_ , Sebastian thought, wanting to believe it. A waiter walked past him with a tray, and he grabbed another drink. 

He sighed softly knowing there were people to talk to, connections to be made. Whatever game Mark had decided to engage in, Sebastian was still here to do his job. He might not enjoy playing politics, but was able to accept it as part of the price he paid to drive a Formula 1 car, so he wandered off, ready to shake the right hands, charm the right people. 

He plastered a smile on his face and dived in.

Sebastian was busy making jokingly light small talk with Jean Todt when Mark strolled over, glass of champagne in hand. It was full, Sebastian noted, like Mark was just walking around holding it rather than actually drinking, which was typical. He'd never really liked champagne, the trappings of luxury that were part of the business seeming to merely annoy him.

Sebastian opened his mouth to say something, but before he could speak, a photographer approached the three of them, and they all turned and smiled, the response automatic after all these years of official functions. Mark leaned in a little, his shoulder pressed against Sebastian's, a large, warm hand coming to rest in the curve of Sebastian's back, just above his ass, fingers splayed wide.

Sebastian couldn't stop himself from flinching, but Mark either didn't notice or didn't care. Most likely the latter, Sebastian knew, and tried to relax, concentrating, but only succeeding in tensing up even more. It wasn't the fact that Mark was touching him, it was the _way_ he touched him, presumptive and possessive, as if Sebastian still belonged to him, was his to lay hands on whenever he pleased. As if he'd ever been.

The photographer finished up, and Todt gave the two of them a knowingly cryptic smirk before walking away.

"Congratulations," Sebastian said. Mark was a world champion now, after all. Technically, at least. The WEC wasn't exactly the pinnacle of motorsport, in Sebastian's opinion, but it was something, he supposed.

"Yeah, thanks," Mark replied. "You too."

Sebastian shrugged, trying to convey an air of nonchalance, as if it didn't matter. Third was wasn't bad, considering where the car had been last year and how amazing the Mercedes were, but it wasn't even close to being good enough. It wasn't first.

Mark nodded, not saying anything, and then wandered off. Sebastian stared at his retreating back; the way those broad shoulders shifted inside his suit jacket as he walked, and then swallowed down the rest of his champagne. He needed something harder, something with more bite, but he didn't dare start drinking in earnest until after the prize giving.

_Fuck_ , he thought, and snapped his fingers irritably at a passing waiter, taking yet another glass of champagne.

The ceremony was as long and as tedious as ever, but everyone smiled gamely, posed with their trophies for the photographers. Sebastian laughed in the right places, accepted the crowd's applause as graciously as he could.

He watched as Mark stood with his two teammates, accepting their trophy. The blond one could pass for hot if you were into that kind of thing. He was far too skinny and young-looking for Sebastian's tastes, but Mark would probably like him.

Sebastian closed his eyes for a brief moment, picturing Mark pinning the blond up against a wall, holding his wrists over his head as he fucked him from behind, thrusting into him relentlessly, hips as endlessly forceful as the pistons in an engine.

Sebastian took a deep breath and clapped along with the rest of the audience. When the ceremony was over, he headed straight for the bar and ordered a double vodka, no ice. 

By the time he managed to catch Mark's eye from across the room he was drunk enough to ignore the voice in his head warning him what a bad idea this was. He headed for the bathroom, loosening his tie as he waited in the stall furthest from the door, cock hardening in anticipation.

There were voices, people coming in and out, but then silence, followed by footsteps, slowly walking the length of the room. Sebastian smiled as Mark appeared in front of him, entering the stall, his presence making the space feel so small it was all Sebastian could do to keep breathing.

Mark locked the door behind him and then leaned back against it, not making any kind of move. There was a challenge in his eyes, that old, familiar dare of _make me_ , and Sebastian was aware he should play it cool, try to at least put up a show of resisting, but it had been so fucking _long_. One step, two, and then he was on his knees, fumbling at the front of Mark's pants with clumsy, impatient fingers.

Mark was already hard, his cock jutting out from his body as Sebastian dragged his pants down out of the way, inhaling the scent of his arousal, wetting his lips and going down.

He stared up at Mark as he sucked, holding his gaze, watching as Mark looked back down at him, perfectly and intently calm. His face was unreadable until Sebastian used his tongue in that exact spot, the one he remembered, and then Mark suddenly let out a sharp breath, closing his eyes, head tilting back. Sebastian smiled to himself in satisfaction, keeping on until he could tell Mark was getting uncomfortably close to coming.

When he simply stopped, and then stood up, wiping his thumb over his bottom lip. Mark glared at him, frustration evident in his expression, but he didn't protest, instead grabbing the lapels of Sebastian's jacket and pulling him in close, kissing him with an open, hungry mouth.

"I want you to fuck me," Sebastian whispered, licking down Mark's jaw, the stubble there tickling his tongue, the taste of sweat lingering

"I don't have anything," Mark replied.

Sebastian stepped back, reaching into the pocket of his pants and grinning as he produced a condom and lube.

Mark looked at him. "What, were you planning this?"

"Maybe." He was, of course he was, but there was no chance he'd admit to that.

"What would you have done if I wasn't up for it?"

Sebastian shrugged. "I'm sure someone else would have fucked me." And they would have, but he wouldn't have bothered with anyone else. He only wanted one thing tonight.

Mark's lip curled into something like a smirk. "Someone else wouldn't know how you like it."

"But they might talk less," Sebastian countered. It was so easy to fall back into the same old patterns. Banter, sex, that knife edge of resentment that still colored their every interaction.

Mark snorted out a derisive laugh, and then grabbed the condom and lube from Sebastian's hand. "Turn around," he said, gesturing.

Sebastian quickly shucked off his jacket, hanging it on the hook on the back of the door, and then shoved down his pants and underwear, using his hands to brace himself against the far wall of the stall.

He could hear Mark preparing himself, condom on, lube squirting out with filthy, slick sound, and then two fingers pushing roughly in. Sebastian couldn't stop himself from wincing, but he concentrated on relaxing into it.

"Nice and tight, mate," Mark said, his voice low. "No one been seeing to you lately?"

"I get what I need," Sebastian hissed out as Mark's fingers scissored inside him. He never was one for being gentle, but that was how Sebastian had always liked it best.

"Yeah?" replied Mark. "Because what it feels like is that you need a proper fuck."

"Then get on with it," Sebastian snapped impatiently.

Mark didn't say anything, but his fingers pulled out, and Sebastian felt the head of his cock pressing at his hole, thick and intrusive, sliding inside him as he gasped, the feeling trapped somewhere between pain and relief, overwhelming him.

"That good?" said Mark. "You like that?"

Sebastian nodded, humiliatingly eager, as Mark began to thrust in and out of him.

"Say it," ordered Mark. "Tell me how much you love it."

"I…" Sebastian could barely speak. "I fucking love it." His face burned red with shame as Mark laughed again, speeding his tempo, going even harder.

They both glanced up at the sound of the bathroom opening, but neither made any move to stop. Mark only leaned in, whispering, "You're such a fucking slut for it aren't you?" He breathed into Sebastian's ear. "You think you can be quiet? Or do you want everyone to know? What do you think everyone would say, if they knew how much you love my cock in your arse?"

Sebastian could feel himself dissolving, a helpless moan rising in his throat, but Mark's hand was suddenly clamped across his mouth. "Shhh," he said. "You be a good boy for me, now."

It was never like this with anyone else, not ever. Sebastian wondered it it was only possible for it to be this good with someone you hated.

His breathing was reduced to jagged, harsh inhalations through flared nostrils, feeling as if he couldn't _quite_ get enough air with Mark's hand tight over his mouth, his head starting to spin. He reached down, tugging on his cock with rough, frantic strokes. 

"You going to come for me?" Mark said, harsh in Sebastian's ear. "Fucking do it, then," he said. "Let me feel it."

Sebastian closed his eyes, letting go, his shouts muffled by Mark's controlling grasp. He could feel himself clenching around Mark's cock, hips jerking back against him as he finally found release. "Fuck," Mark muttered. _"Fuck,"_ he said, slamming Sebastian's limp body hard against the wall, pinning him there, pumping in and out until he came, not removing his hand from Sebastian's mouth until he was done, burying his face in Sebastian's shoulder and biting down with one last, shuddering exhale.

He pulled out, and Sebastian staggered the two steps over to the toilet, sitting down on the edge, inhaling deeply, trying desperately to catch his breath. 

"You okay?" Mark asked, and he nodded in reply.

Mark slid off the used condom, throwing it into the toilet behind Sebastian and then stood there for a minute, waiting with a concerned expression on his face until Sebastian's breathing steadied.

"Sure?" he checked.

"I'm fine," Sebastian replied, trying not to sound as irritated as he felt. Mark could get to him like no one else, and he loathed that fact.

"Okay then." Mark backed away, zipping up his pants, checking his tie, as infuriatingly unaffected as always. "See you, then," he said as he opened the door, but then turned. "Give me a call sometime, yeah?"

"Yeah," Sebastian said. "Sometime."

Mark grinned at him, and then was gone. 

Sebastian locked the stall, and sat back down. For a while, at least, no one would miss him.


End file.
